


you and me and some distant future

by yanak324



Series: say something like you love me [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Honesty, Light Angst, Loads of fluff though, Love Confessions, Not a whole lot of plot, Oral Sex, Pre-Established Relationship, Returning Home, Rickon POV, Romance, but more than in the prequel to this, girl on top, morning afters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324/pseuds/yanak324
Summary: Lyanna Mormont is not one to be easily romanced, but he’s willing to test her limits.Or Rickon returns to Winterfell, runs into Lyanna at a party, and they finally get on the same page.
Relationships: Lyanna Mormont/Rickon Stark
Series: say something like you love me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753555
Comments: 24
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IDK what I'm doing except that this pairing is giving me life and inspiring the hell out of me, and I'm going to ride this wave until it drowns me. Thank you to anyone who reads, comments, leaves kudos, or even just lurks. I super appreciate you all <3 As always, I own nothing. Enjoy xoxo.

“You’re a sloppy drunk, you know that?”

Rickon shrugs and throws back some tequila.

“What’s it to you?”

Lyanna’s eyes narrow, arms crossing over her chest and he wills himself not to drop his gaze there.

“So, that’s it then?”

“What do you mean?”

It’s actually quite easy to look at her face, especially when she’s a little bit annoyed with him, as she is now.

Fuck, he’s missed her.

“No hello or anything? Not even a how are you?”

“Well, you’re clearly here with someone.”

Is it the wrong thing to say? Maybe. 

But Rickon’s not above pettiness, especially when he’s drunk. 

And he can’t deny that seeing Lyanna kissing an undeniably attractive woman didn’t absolutely gut him.

They haven’t spoken much these past few months; final exams and job applications for him, a highly competitive internship for her.

But he is back in Winterfell now, for good. And well that has to count for something right?

“Oh so that’s what this is about?”

Lyanna quirks her eyebrow briefly, but otherwise her face remains neutral, and it irks him like no other.

“What’s this exactly?”

“Oh, come the fuck off of it, Rickon. Are you telling me you haven’t been with anyone?”

And there it is.

The truth he’s been avoiding ever since that weekend she’d come to see him in Skagos. No one else has been in his bed or in his heart since she settled there. He simply isn’t interested in anyone else.

But apparently she is.

Rickon knows his silence speaks volumes as does his avoidant gaze. Lyanna doesn’t say anything but when she motions him to follow her, he does.

They go out to the back of the house, where she leans against the brick wall and lights a cigarette that seems to have materialized out of nowhere.

“Since when do you smoke?”

Lyanna shrugs and blows out a line of smoke away from him.

“It’s an occasional habit,” she says with pursed lips, “A bad one.”

Her gaze lingers on him, full of implication and Rickon finds he doesn’t like it very much.

He doesn’t back off though, matching her look with one of his own, and Lyanna exhales in minor frustration, shaking her head.

“I’m not with her. The girl you saw me with. It’s just something we do when we’re bored and at the same party or whatever.”

Her voice gets smaller as she glances down at her boots, dragging the heel of one along the pavement as her cigarette dangles forgotten between her elegant fingers.

Briefly, Rickon has a flash of those same fingers digging into his shoulders as she moaned his name, but he blinks it away.

When he finds Lyanna's eyes cast down and lips still pinched in a frown, it quells some of the rage inside him; the twine of jealousy unfurling as he reaches for her hand. 

“Does that mean she won’t care if you ditch this party with me?”

He treats her to one of his irresistible smiles, hoping to spark a silent truce.

Even if just for the evening.

Lyanna surprises him with how readily she threads her fingers through his and nods, lips now curved into a smile.

“I wouldn’t care if she did anyway. Where do you want to go?”

xxx

He takes her to a nearby pizza place, even though she claims she’s not hungry.

“Well I am,” he tells her, and tries not to get carried away by the sound of Lyanna’s amused laughter as she follows him along.

They take their slices to go, strolling down sidewalks and back alleys, places Rickon knows like the back of his hand.

Places that feel like home.

Though he would bet that has a lot more to do with Lyanna than it does with revisiting his old stomping grounds.

“How’s it feel being back?”

The weight of alcohol has been sufficiently absorbed by grease but it still takes Rickon a while to respond.

“Not sure yet. It depends.”

“On what?”

They’ve stopped to dispose of their trash and the streetlamp bathes Lyanna in a light that makes it difficult for him to breathe, let alone focus on what he actually wants to say.

This is an important moment though. In the past, he hasn’t exactly risen to the occasion, always just a little bit afraid of what all of this could mean.

The alternative though - her being with someone else - scares him more now.

He reaches for her again, bringing her into the circle of his arms by her waist. When Lyanna doesn’t resist, he feels relief and then a bit of a rush, the kind that only comes with being in her presence.

It feels both ironic and a little sad that he’d spent the last four years staying away from Winterfell, but he’s about to spill his heart out to the girl he loves in the middle of his fucking hometown.

The laugh bubbles out of him before Rickon can stop it and he nearly apologizes when he feels Lyanna start to laugh too. It’s a rumbling against his chest, and it lights something inside him.

Of course, she gets the absurdity of it all.

And he wants to kiss her so badly, he feels it in every part of his body. Especially in his chest, where his heart is suddenly beating much faster than before.

“Stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be away from you.”

He slips his thumb under her top, tracing the smooth curve of her hip.

Lyanna doesn’t pull away, but she still looks at him like she doesn’t know what to do with him, and it makes him impatient.

“What?”

Her expression softens ever so slightly as she touches his face, smoothing the furrow between his brows.

“You just look so afraid I’m going to say no.”

Once he realizes what she’s implying, he can no longer resist leaning down to kiss her.

It’s chaste, nothing like what they’ve shared in the past, but it’s equally intoxicating. He thinks it’s always going to be like that with her. When they separate, he takes her hand and pulls her along.

“Let’s go then.”

He tries not to completely lose it at how Lyanna squeezes his hand in hers. 

xxx

They don’t even make it past the second floor landing in his building before she is kissing him.

Rickon wants to blame it on the ridiculous amount of tequila he'd ingested earlier but he knows that has nothing to do with the lightness in his chest or the dizziness in his head as Lyanna shoves him against the railing.

His hands immediately bury in her hair, combing through the soft tresses and not even giving it even a second thought as he returns her kiss.

The sound of a door slamming somewhere in the distance forces them apart and he can’t help but laugh. 

“What?” Lyanna asks breathlessly, hands still fisting his shirt.

“Nothing. Just wasn’t expecting this when I asked you to come over.”

She looks at him like she doesn’t believe him, but there’s also unmistakable glint in her eye.

“Should we stop then?”

“Fuck, no.”

He initiates the kiss this time, cupping her jaw and not letting her go until she’s gasping into his mouth. 

The sound sends a bolt of anticipation straight through him, and he reluctantly pulls away from her warmth, determined to get them to his apartment before he snaps completely.

“Where’s the bedroom?” she asks as soon as they're inside.

“Over there,” Rickon gestures somewhere over her left shoulder, far too busy kissing a trail down her neck to look up.

Lyanna apparently decides the living room is closer because in the next second, she’s pushing him in the opposite direction and then shoving him onto the couch.

“Off.”

She gestures to his shirt and his hands immediately go to the buttons, despite his eyes being entirely trained on her.

He watches as she unzips her boots, and then shrugs off her jacket. Something about her urgency makes him impatient, and stupidly hard.

“Come here.”

“In a minute.”

Rickon is about to argue when she unclasps the buttons on her own top and his throat runs dry as she peels it off to reveal no bra underneath.

He suddenly wishes he’d taken the time to flick the lights on because he knows there’s nothing quite like seeing all that pale, smooth skin even in the faintest glow.

He’ll settle for touch at this point though, and luckily Lyanna doesn’t make him wait any longer, finally straddling him and seeking out his mouth.

His hand finds its way up to her breast, palming the soft flesh and swallowing her moans as he pinches an already hardened nipple.

She pulls away from him suddenly, making his head spin. 

“Who said you could touch?”

He’s not one to submit easily though, and his fingers squeeze harder as he smiles up at her. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck, no.” 

The breathless way she parrots his earlier words back to him goes straight to his cock, inciting him to kiss her again. 

He wastes no time slipping his tongue in her mouth, sliding against hers as her hands press into his bare chest, cold fingers and sharp nails making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

These are the kisses he’s missed, the frantic, frenzied slide of their lips, hands moving anywhere they can reach; his own searching out the button on her jeans and unsnapping it with ease.

He doesn’t anticipate her hand wrapping around his wrist, but he stills immediately, fear seeping in that she might have changed her mind.

He quickly learns that could not be further from the truth as Lyanna leans over him, dark eyes swimming with heat but also a twinge of disbelief. 

“You really weren’t with anyone else?” 

Rickon shakes his head immediately, reaching up to cradle her cheek and keep her gaze on his. 

“No one. No one but you.” 

She regards him for just a moment – one that leaves him suspended in uncertainty – but it’s all for naught because then she’s leaning down to kiss him again, and her hand is suddenly on _his_ jeans, unzipping them and he grabs a hold of her hips as she pulls him out and then, _fuck_ – 

“Lya…” 

His head falls to the back of the couch as she wraps her hand around him and starts to move. 

He’d forgotten how good she is at that; at keeping a firm grip on him while working her wrist, and before long, Rickon can feel his pulse in his throat and the tension building up his spine.

And really if it were anyone else, he would be truly embarrassed at how quickly he’s been reduced to a trembling mess, but it’s not just anyone. 

It’s Lyanna.

Lyanna and her deft hands.

Lyanna and her magnetic brown eyes.

Lyanna and her beautiful tits bare and just inches away from his face as she jerks him off. 

The thought has him sitting up again, dropping a kiss to her shoulder before pulling a rosy nipple in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around her, causing her grip to falter, but it’s only a moment. 

Then she squeezes him again, swiftly reminding him exactly who is in charge and Rickon can’t help but grin against her skin. 

“Can’t wait to have my tongue inside you.” 

He purposefully rubs his chin along the slope of her breast, hoping to distract her one more time, but Lyanna is undeterred, hand still moving determinedly between them as she laughs in his ear. 

“Come first and then we’ll see.” 

“That won’t be a problem,” he tells her through gritted teeth, suddenly finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other the delicious friction she’s creating. 

He doesn’t even need to look down, to where his cock is thick and leaking precum, to know that he’s a second away from exploding. 

He does anyway, and the image of Lyanna’s graceful fingers wrapped around him, the same ones he has missed for months on end because they’re attached to the woman who has well and truly stolen his heart is just enough to push Rickon over the edge. 

He chokes out her name, hand dropping to still on top of hers as hot white streaks paint his stomach. Spots dance in front of his eyes as he tries to get his breathing under control. 

That proves near impossible when Lyanna slides off his lap and leans down to give him a long and hard lick, sending his hips shooting off the couch and his moans filling the air. 

“Fucking hells, Lya, you’re going to be the death of me.” 

Lyanna doesn’t bother hiding her mirth as she plucks some tissues off the side table and cleans him off. 

“Hope not, since you made such high promises and all.” 

Her words sufficiently revive him, reminding him of the last time he had his mouth on her, and just how good it had felt. He surprises them both with how quickly he gets up and lifts her bridal style into his arms.

“I suppose I should make good on them then.” 

Lyanna doesn’t object, reaching up to kiss him as he crosses the span of the living room and carries her to his bedroom. 

xxx

He has her naked and splayed out on his bed in under a minute.

The view of her; dark hair fanned out around her face like a halo; lithe body punctuated by soft curves; and those damn fingers tracing along his bedspread - it’s reminiscent of the very first time he’d had her.

But the urgency isn’t the same now. There isn’t a ticking clock counting down the moments to when she’ll leave again.

This time, he’ll make sure she stays.

Once he’s stripped off his clothes, instead of crawling in between her legs, Rickon lays a hand on her knee and lets his eyes rake over her.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare?”

Her tone is so even keeled, it belies exactly how worked up she is. The gooseflesh lining her skin and the tight pink nipples prominent against her pale breasts say otherwise.

“Even if I am, what are you going to do about it?”

Challenge sparks in her eye, and then her hand is suddenly traveling south; a thrill shoots through him as he catches her wrist and threads their fingers.

“You’re not doing that. Maybe later, but right now it’s my turn.”

Lyanna regards him for a moment, tilting her head before her lip quirks into a gratified smile.

“Awfully cocky of you to think there will be a later.”

“Oh there will be,” Rickon assures her as he finally moves up her body until they’re at eye level.

“I’ve got promises to keep.”

And he doesn’t mean just making her come, which is imminent.

He means everything else too.

“I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

Is it the right time to say this? Probably not, but if anyone knows his tendency to run his mouth, it’s Lyanna. 

He wants to say more, wants to confess everything now that he has her so close, but she stops him with a palm on his cheek and eyes verging on impatience. 

“Can we talk about this in the morning?”

Rickon leans into her touch immediately, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

And because he’s first and foremost a cheeky bastard, he can’t help but grin at her. 

“Oh, so now there will be a later? You’re really giving me mixed messages, Lya.”

“Am I?” She asks with a raised eyebrow, and he doesn’t even have time to react before she’s grabbing his hand and guiding it down.

Rickon swears his moan is louder than hers when he feels the warm heat of her beneath his fingers.

“Does this help clear things up?”

It seems he’s lost all train of thought because for the life of him, he suddenly can’t remember what they’d been talking about.

Not when all he can picture now is licking into all that warmth.

“Are you this wet just from me sucking on your tits?”

He presses his fingers in deeper, gathering the moisture and bringing it up to her clit.

“And from getting you off so quickly.”

She’s breathing heavier now, nipples catching on his chest with each pass of his fingers, but it’s still not enough.

He wants her shaking and moaning his name and tugging on his hair - just like that first time.

The thought prompts Rickon into action, lips tracing a path down her sternum, then around her navel, and the soft skin of her hips.

The way Lyanna immediately parts her legs wider, like she can’t possibly wait any longer, has him pausing at her hip bone, a groan escaping as he breathes in her scent. 

“You’re really trying to drive me mad, aren’t ya?”

He doesn’t really expect her to answer but when she does, he feels himself grow harder again.

“Maybe. Now stop talking.”

“Gladly,” he tells her quickly before dropping a kiss to her inner thigh and dragging his tongue up her slit.

Lyanna arches right into his mouth, sparking a hint of satisfaction but her plea for more doesn’t make him budge.

He eats her out slowly, sliding his fingers up and replacing his tongue as he circles her clit.

From this angle, he can’t see her face, just the rise and fall of her chest and the smooth line of her stomach. 

When she starts to circle her nipples, twisting the hard peaks in time with the curling of his fingers, it becomes immediately clear that the sight of Lyanna touching herself will never be anything less than intoxicating to him.

The impatient turn of her hips and subsequent moan refocus him, lips once again wrapping around her clit and sucking in earnest.

“Rickon, fuck-“

“Good?”

He asks in between wisps of his tongue and can’t help but smile when Lyanna shushes him, hand darting out to bury in his hair and direct his head to where she wants it.

The action seems to reverberate through his entire body, ending with his cock, which is already half hard again.

Kissing her wet, warm skin, he slides a third finger in; not relenting even as her thighs start to shake.

“Gods, yeah, right there.”

Her breathy gasp spurs him to swirl his tongue more intentionally as his fingers search for the spot inside her that’ll have her screaming his name.

Rickon knows the exact moment he finds it by the way her fingers tightly fist his curls as she circles her hips, chasing the sweep of his lips and the turn of his wrist.

Without giving it a second thought, he covers the hand on his head with his, running his thumb along her knuckles before threading their fingers.

Somewhere above him, a string of curses spills from Lyanna’s mouth but it feels decidedly far away, too far away for him to focus on anything other than getting her to come around his fingers.

It happens unexpectedly. One minute she’s writing beneath him, telling him just how close she is and how good his mouth feels on her and the next second, her body freezes, cunt fluttering as a gush of liquid floods his palm.

Rickon abandons her clit in favor of watching how she shudders through her release, chest heaving as a pleasant flush overtakes her body.

Her grip eases on his hair, but he doesn’t let go, bringing her hand to his lips.

He kisses each knuckle, feeling the beat of her pulse in her wrist as he watches her from his spot between her thighs.

When Lyanna runs her hand through her hair and looks down at him, he presses his cheek against her hip bone and smiles. 

“What are you still doing down there?”

“Admiring the view,” he tells her cheekily and can’t help the flutter of elation in his chest as she rolls his eyes at him.

Lyanna Mormont is not one to be easily romanced, but he’s willing to test her limits.

The thought finally has him sliding up her body before she can even tell him to “get up here.”

There’s a moment then when he’s towering over her again, and Rickon can see the sparkle in her eye, and the pink on her cheeks, that the words nearly spill out of him. 

He’s never said I love you to anyone before; has never really felt what he knows he feels for her with certainty, but he knows he has to do it right. 

“You’re thinking too hard.” 

Lyanna pulls him right out of his musings, a knowing expression lining her flushed features, and Rickon doesn’t even deny it. 

Because of course she sees right through him, she always has, and the heat that ricochets through him at the realization is altogether different from the one currently responsible for his cock pressing hard into her thigh. 

“Maybe I’m still processing my good fortune,” he says while brushing a few damp strands of hair off of her face.

Before Lyanna can snap back at him with what he’s certain will be a much wittier response, he leans down and kisses her. 

It’s almost too much, how soft and willing her mouth is, how eagerly her tongue traces the seam of his lips. He can’t resist pressing himself right into her warmth, right into the spot that’s still wet and reeling from his fingers. 

“Gods, I want you so much.” 

He pulls away, but barely, forehead resting against hers, hand still cupping her jaw, and her sharp exhale skitters down his spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he gazes at her. 

She doesn’t say anything but she doesn’t have to, not when she’s looking at him like that, and her hand is suddenly in his hair again, sliding through his curls as she angles her hips just right. And there’s no denying how much she wants him too, and the thought has him looping his arm under her knee and sliding into her in one fell swoop. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes out at the same time as she arches up, and all other words get lodged in his throat, because it’s suddenly imperative that he focus on moving. 

He does, keeping a firm grip on her as he slides out and pushes in again. 

And even though he can barely see beyond the jolts of pleasure that slices through him each time he thrusts inside her, Lyanna’s face is still clear and so in front of him, he can’t focus on anything else aside from watching how her expression shifts with each of his movements. 

He wants to blame it on how long it’s been since he’s actually had sex, but he knows the very tenuous grip he suddenly has on his self-control has nothing to do with the act, and everything to do with the woman underneath him; who seems to have a power over him that he can’t put into words. 

It’s the last thought that crosses his mind before he shuts it off, letting the drag of his cock becoming more insistent as he pounds into her. 

Lyanna doesn’t seem to mind the quick shift of pace, always meeting him halfway and making his eyes roll to the back of his head as he shakes on top of her. 

“You feel so good,” he whispers into the crown of her head.

The fragrance of her shampoo mixed with the heady scent of sex makes Rickon dizzy and nearly unhinged as he raises her leg higher up under his arm, changing the angle. 

“Yesss,” she hisses out as soon as he does, and the look of absolute euphoria on her face only spurs him on, making him go deeper, strokes more insistent as he feels her clench around him. 

His eyes skate over her body, the curve of her waist, the sway of her breasts, and then how perfectly her nipple pebbles in between his fingers as he twists the tight peak, watching in fascination as Lyanna’s eyes fly open and her lip disappears between her teeth. 

He’s so enamored both by the view and the feel of her, wet and warm, and so fucking tight around him that he’s already stupidly close to finishing inside, but her demand that he kiss her again anchors him. He quickly obeys, lips finding hers easily as his fingers continue to play with her. 

The kiss seems to invigorate them both, and Lyanna’s hands find themselves winding in his hair, down his back, digging into his sides as he grinds down on her.

Rickon knows he’s found the perfect angle when she pulls away from him, breathing hard with eyes wilder than he’s ever seen. 

“You close?” he whispers into the tight space between them, and the clench of her cunt tells him everything he needs to know. 

He still loses himself in her wordless nod; in the way her eyelashes flutter across her cheeks as she shuts her eyes again, clearly trying to find some way to ride out the impending crest.

There’s nothing more that he wants then to watch her unravel, to feel her body still and her breath catch and to know that it’s him who's making her feel this good, as good as she makes him feel. 

And because Rickon can never actually shut up, he tells her so, dropping his mouth to the shell of her ear as he whispers to her about how much he’s missed the tight feel of her, and the smell of her, and how every sound that comes out of her goes straight to his cock. 

The sharp prick of her nails against his skin is the only sign that she hears him but when her body stills, and she calls out his name, the cry mixing stupidly well with the sound of their bodies moving together, he uses the last of his strength to lean back just so he can watch her. 

It feels like it’s over in a flash, but he knows the mental image of Lyanna like this, face twisted in absolute pleasure as she strains for air, will be something he’ll have a hard time forgetting. 

And it’s the same image that drives him to keep moving, not giving her a moment of respite as his hand slides down between them, putting just the slightest pressure on her clit, just enough to have her eyes fly open.

“ _Rickon_.” 

“Come for me, Lya. I want to feel it again.” 

But of course, he’s no match for her, because then she’s smirking at him as she starts to roll her nipple between her fingertips, and he knows, Rickon just _knows_ he won’t last long enough to watch her come again.

He decides to try though, fingers rubbing tighter circles on her slippery flesh as he pounds into her harder. It seems to do the trick, because suddenly, Lyanna is gasping for air again, and her own fingers still against the swell of her breasts, but he’s right there too, he can feel his release approach, and he reaches down and kisses her roughly. 

It’s the last thing he remembers before his vision whites out completely and he empties inside her with a wordless yell, the feeling too intense to focus on anything other than his half-hearted thrusts. 

His vision clears just in time to watch Lyanna unravel again, and despite the total delirium he’s suspended in, Rickon still somehow manages to keep his fingers steady on her, arm pinning her down as she shudders beneath him. 

The tension in his spine seems to abate the longer he braces himself on top of her, and when she opens her eyes again, the smile that splits her face must be a reflection of his own for how stupidly relaxed and sated he feels. 

“You’re unreal, you know that.”

Lyanna's eyes flash in amusement, no doubt ready to remind him that his words are in direct opposition to their current situation – to just how very _real_ they feel against one another.

But then her face softens and she runs her hands through his sweat soaked curls instead.

“You’re pretty amazing too.” 

And it’s not quite a love confession, but it still hits him somewhere in his chest, and he can’t help leaning down to kiss her again, slower, softer, but still so potent. A stark reminder that no matter how many times he has her like this, he is never going to get tired of it. 

“I suppose we’re perfectly matched then.” 

This time, Lyanna doesn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes at him but he can’t be bothered questioning just how cheesy and stupidly romantic he’s being right now. 

“Can you be perfectly matched next to me? Before you crush me.” 

Her words pull a chuckle from him as he takes the cue to release her leg and lay at her side. 

“Sorry.” 

He buries his fingers in her hair once he has her draped on top of him, but Lyanna just shakes her head, damp strands of hair tickling his skin as she looks up at him with a glint in her eye.

“It’s okay, just figured this is a better way to regain my strength, since we’re definitely doing that again.” 

“Oh, are we?” 

“We are,” she says resolutely, dark eyes gazing up at him in determination.

Despite being totally spent, Rickon hauls her up until he can properly kiss her again. 

“Anything for you,” he whispers against her lips after they pull away, and the way Lyanna smiles down on him tells him that she knows he means it. 

And that she might mean it too. 

xxx


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sighs right into his mouth, and it jolts something inside him, reminding him once again that this isn’t just a one-time thing, at least not for him; and she’d promised they’d talk in the morning, so –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the dark corner of my universe where I write self-indulgent one shots that carry me through my other writing projects. As always, I own nothing but my thirst, and hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it <3

Rickon’s never had a problem waking up alone after spending the night with someone. In fact, he’d preferred it that way. 

No awkward morning after; no stilted small talk, or false promises of a phone call. 

But when he wakes up on this particular morning to an empty bed, the initial flare up of disappointment is difficult to ignore. 

He rolls onto his back to glare at the ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh.

It’s then that he catches movement out of the corner of his eye and can’t help but feel annoyed at himself for jumping to conclusions so quickly. Especially with how casually Lyanna walks back into the room, wearing one _his_ t-shirts, and carrying a glass she’d pilfered from _his_ cupboard. 

“Hey.” 

She sets it on the floor by the bed – because he still hasn’t gotten a proper nightstand - and climbs onto the bed to straddle him. 

“I said hey.” 

And she’s grinning down at him, and he’s still naked underneath the sheet so he feels the heat of her skin on him, and it makes more than just his cock twitch. 

“Morning.” 

He tries for a smile, but it’s clearly not enough to convince Lyanna that nothing’s amiss. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, head tilted to the side as she appraises him fondly.

It’s so obvious that she’s not conflicted, that if anything, this is the most relaxed and at ease, Rickon has ever seen her, and he doesn’t want to fuck shit up already with his fears, but – 

“Oh my god,” Lyanna breathes out suddenly, eyes going wide but not without a hint of mirth in them, “you thought I left, didn’t you?” 

He glances away from her just for a minute, just because it’s difficult as fuck to gather his thoughts when she’s right there in front of him, but Lyanna draws him back with two fingers on his jaw.

“Lya, I – “ 

Her kiss swallows his words and he doesn’t even care, not when her lips are so insistent, and so familiar by this point. 

Beyond just the heat he suddenly feels right down his middle is the sense of comfort that only Lyanna can invoke, and he sits up, tangling his fingers in her hair, bringing her impossibly closer. 

She sighs right into his mouth, and it jolts something inside him, reminding him once again that this isn’t just a one-time thing, at least not for him; and she’d promised they’d talk in the morning, so – 

But he’s not really sure how to start or what to say, so he just stares at her, tracing the curve of her cheek instead.

Lyanna picks up on his indecision, and her touch is soothing as it dances along his forearm. 

“What do you want, Rickon?”

And that’s the thing. 

How is he supposed to tell her that what he’s wanted hasn’t changed for months. Not since the first time he kissed her on that rocky beach, windblown strands of her hair getting caught between their lips.

“Talk to me.”

There’s a stillness here that wasn’t there that night. A calm that throws into stark relief just how solid and tangible Lyanna is in his arms; no rough edges now between them as she tilts his jaw.

“I’m sorry.” 

He finds himself leaning into her, hands skating up her bare thighs to trace the hem of the t-shirt he doesn’t remember owning.

“This being in love thing is hard.” 

He tries for levity but it seems to have the opposite effect, Lyanna’s gaze growing wide as she drops her palms to his chest.

“What?”

Her surprise should irk Rickon but it doesn’t. It just provides clarity, a drive. He’s never actually said this to her before so how was she supposed to know?

He sits up straighter, hands trailing up her sides until he can draw her face forward.

“I love you, Lya.”

Her breath hitches ever so slightly, and if he weren’t so close, he might even think she hasn’t heard him but her eyes, _Gods help him_ , her eyes shine down on him, surprise giving way to something Rickon can’t quite put into words. 

And it seems like she can’t either because the next second she’s leaning down and the plump lip he’d brushed his thumb over is suddenly on his.

When her tongue slips into his mouth, he drops his hands from her cheeks to tug her closer, unable to control the jerk of his hips when he realizes she’s not wearing anything under his shirt.

He pulls away, breathing heavily as he scans her face. She’s so close, all he can see and feel and think about is her, and it’s so intimate, so raw, in a way that he’s unused to. It feels almost foreign when Lyanna speaks.

“I didn’t think –“ but she stops herself, running her hand through her long tresses and shaking her head.

And it might be the first time Rickon has seen her truly lose composure. His heartbeat picks up speed as he grins.

“Made you speechless, huh?” 

“Shut up.” 

But he won’t. Now that he’s all but heard how she feels, it’s all he can do not to flip them over and have his way with her.

He settles for capturing her hand instead and bringing it to his mouth, deliberately taking his time kissing each knuckle as he levels a gaze at her.

“You’re breathtaking.”

She tries to push off him, but this version of her, this flustered, vulnerable Lyanna with her swollen lips, and flushed cheeks and chocolate gaze so full of something that makes his heart swell – it’s far too tempting and Rickon doesn’t let her go, hand landing firmly on her ass and squeezing hard. 

“You’re gonna have to get used to hearing that if you’re going to be my girlfriend.”

“And who says I am?”

And that’s the thing about her. She’s never babied him, never treated him with kiddie gloves like his family sometimes did or perceived him as a wounded wolf just because he was the runt of the litter. 

Lyanna has just always seen him for who he is. An outright shit who masks his need for acceptance with arrogance but has a soft spot for a few things – primarily her. 

“Don’t you want to?”

She doesn’t take too long to mull over his question, but she answers with her mouth crashing down on his and her hands disappearing into his hair, tugging him so close he can feel her nipples through the layer of cotton. 

It seems to wake up every bit of him that’s still been asleep, and it would be so tempting to lift her hips up and resettle until he’s buried as deep inside her as he can go. 

Rickon pulls away instead, lips dropping to her neck, and skimming the soft flesh there.

“It’s your turn, Lya,” he drags his fingers inward, closer to where he knows they both want them, “to tell me what you want.” 

He leans back just for a moment, just to make sure that they’re really on the same page here - and as if he needs any further confirmation, the way Lyanna rids herself of _his_ shirt erases any feeling to the contrary.

Her hair falls across her chest, strands of chestnut obscuring her from view, but her nipples still peek through, tight and beaded, and right there. He finds one easily, watching her eyelashes flutter shut as his thumb brushes over the tip. 

He does it again, and her back arches slightly, blunt nails digging into his shoulder as she lets out a low hum of approval. 

His other hand remains dormant at the crease of her thigh, until Lyanna suddenly grabs hold of his wrist and moves it where she wants it.

“Why did you stop?” 

“Cause I’m a stupid man,” Rickon mutters, half-delirious already, and absolutely half-hard too, even more so when he spots the wicked shine in her eyes as she pushes his fingers deeper.

The feel of her heat, the slippery glide is a sharp reminder of their night together, and the nights he’s thought of for months before that. And he takes over quickly, finding what he’s looking for with ease and pressing into it with an intention that has Lyanna tensing up on top of him. 

“Rickon,” she chokes his name out in between gasps of breath and when his fingers curl within her, she slumps over him, exhaling right into his neck.

“Good?”

He pushes her hair out of the way so he can lathe her pulse point.

“Mhm.”

She bucks her hips into his hand and he bites into her skin, letting his teeth graze the smooth surface as her thighs grip him tighter.

He’s so lost in the desperation of her movements, in the intoxicating taste and smell of her, he doesn’t realize she’s gotten a hold of him until she squeezes, making him lose his rhythm. 

“Fucking hells, Lya. A little warning.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” She asks but he can’t be bothered to answer, not when she turns her wrist and makes tension spark like a fury in the pit of his belly.

And really, he knows he can overpower her right now, can throw her down on the bed and plunge right into her – and he’s certain she’d have no objection. But he can’t bring himself to do it. 

The blinds he never bothers shutting all the way let in just enough light to cast an almost erotic glow over her. It brings out the flicks of light brown in her hair and the freckles strewn across her nose and the pink hue to her skin that travels down to the tips of her breasts and gives way to soft, downy curves that leave him lightheaded.

It’s all too fucking much in the best way possible and he doesn’t want to disturb the tableau she paints. Wants to commit it to memory instead.

But he also knows he won’t last long, not at all with her hovering over him and so wet for him she’s nearly dripping into his hand. He slides his fingers out, ignoring the whine of protest that turns into an appreciative groan as he urges her up and over his cock, taking hold of himself and easing inside. 

And it’s excruciatingly slow how she slides down on him, but also somehow over in a blink of an eye and he shudders out a curse as he bottoms out. 

“Gods....”

“Yeah,” she sighs, and there’s just a twinge of a smile on her face as she braces herself against his chest and starts to move.

His hands find purchase on her hips again, more so to hold on rather than steer. The tight fit of her leaves him incapable of much else, and he’s genuinely fine with it. Content to lean back and watch her ride his cock, hoping to last long enough to watch her unravel before him.

But Lyanna doesn’t seem okay with it. 

“Touch me.”

Rickon doesn’t make her wait, ignoring his inclination to tease in favor of dragging his thumb to where they’re joined and stroking hard.

“Oh yesss, just like that.”

The action seems to light a fire inside her, sending her hips jerking forward as she rises up and down on him, and his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head as he feels the telltale clench of her. He doesn’t ease off whatsoever, using his other hand to palm at her breasts, moving between them until her moves get too erratic and she can barely hold herself up.

When Lyanna slumps over him again, softness colliding with lean muscle, the angle shift makes Rickon see stars. He weaves his arm around her back, tracing her spine with purposeful fingers as she moans into his neck.

He’s barely able to decipher where she ends and he begins but what he knows firmly, surely, with every fiber of his being, is that he doesn’t want this to end, any of it. 

And while he’d normally whisper all manner of filth into her ear, making her shiver and moan not just with fingers and his cock but also his voice, Rickon finds himself unable to formulate anything worthy of the moment.

Everything but I love you feels cheap somehow and even that doesn’t convey the elation bubbling inside him. 

He thinks he’ll say it anyway though, and tugs her back to look at him, but as soon as her face is right in front of him, Lyanna’s eyes flash with something so potent, so viscerally real, they render him speechless. She stills, save for the pulse of her around him, and it’s all Rickon can do to try and catch her as she falls, crushing her against him as he swallows her moans with a kiss. 

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, lips dragging along each other’s as he runs his fingers up and down her back. Eventually, Lyanna sits up straighter, smiling rather devilishly at him as she reaches for his fingers and sucks two right into her mouth. 

She swirls her tongue around and swivels her hips, and the dual sensation of being inside her, so tight and wet and just right fucking there, snaps what little Rickon has of his self-control. His fingers leave a wet trail as he grabs onto her hips and starts to thrust up into her. 

Lyanna doesn’t skip a beat, bearing down on him as she matches his pace. Her own hand finds it’s the back of his neck, tracing the fine hairs there as her eyes remain focused on him. Rickon truly doesn’t know how he’s even breathing at this moment when – 

“I love you too, you know. So fucking much.” 

And that’s all it takes for the tether to snap. 

He comes with a grunt dropped somewhere hear her shoulder, shuddering seemingly from head to toe as he strains for breath. Lyanna keeps steady on top of him, guiding him along as he digs his fingers into the flesh of her ass, feeling the tidal wave of intensity subside. 

He can barely keep his eyes open then but the words come easier – _Gods, I love you too, Lya_ – traced into her skin with his lips and cutting through the rush of blood in his ears. 

He hears her soft laugh, just as tired as his but unmistakably satisfied and Rickon feels the twinges of a smile as he embraces her against him. 

Lyanna doesn’t try to separate and he’s glad for it, not wanting to let her go now, or really ever.

A million thoughts filter through his head. The possibilities of them and their future together making him delirious enough to openly laugh as he buries his nose in her hair and inhales her scent. 

“What’s so funny?” Lyanna asks as soon as he lets her go a bit but he just shakes his head, still grinning as he brushes aside the damp strands sticking to her neck. 

“Nothing. Just happy, I guess.”

And then she’s laughing too; quiet, soft, and just for him. 

“Me too.” 

She whispers before leaning down to kiss him, and Rickon doesn’t hesitate reciprocating. 

There’s an unexpected honesty about their kiss, just about them in general, but he thinks he could get used to it, especially if he gets to be by Lyanna’s side, a place he knows with certainty he belongs. 

xxx


End file.
